The Marine Museum at Fall River is a cultural gem and contains a wealth of Fall River Maritime History especially Steam Ship and Titanic memorabilia. Discover the art, books, models and many treasures the Marine Museum holds. This is a must see
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The Marine Museum at Fall River is a cultural gem and contains a wealth of Fall River Maritime History especially Steam Ship and Titanic memorabilia. Discover the art, books, models and many treasures the Marine Museum holds. This is a must see resource for landlubbers and mariners alike.

Carol Gafford is a public librarian, family historian, amateur archivist and book savior. She is currently the youth services/outreach librarian at the Swansea Public Library and volunteers for several museum and historical societies including the Marine Museum at Fall River, the Swansea Historical Society and the Bristol Historical and Preservation society. She is the editor of Past Times, the Massachusetts Society of Genealogists and is always looking for a new project to take on.

Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig !! St. Patrick’s Day Blessings to you and yours. It is a day when all are Irish. So this week I would like to talk to you about Irish music that I love and the strange and out of the ordinary things that happened to me when singing in Ireland.

I flew to Ireland and went on a 10 day tour of the country ten years ago. I travelled all across the country via car with my mother. After landing in Shannon airport we drove up the Western coast to our first visit in Galway City. Please let me impart to you some critical information. If I ever go missing, and no one can locate me, know that I am content and happily making my living “busking” which is singing on a street corner for whatever spare change would be thrown at me. In the movie “Once” one of my much loved Irish singer songwriters Glen Hansard portrays a “busker” who makes his living singing on the streets of Dublin. He can go ahead and have Dublin, my heart resides in Galway City.

When I was visiting Galway at the beginning of my trip, I stopped at a bar called the Roisin Dubh (Black Rose). I asked if there was a sessiun which is a sort of impromptu jam session with traditional Irish instruments such as: fiddle, tin whistle, bodhran, accordion and the like. A circle is formed and the playing begins, seamlessly it flows from one song into another ranging from reels to ballads. I sat for a bit listening and then asked if they knew the song “The water is wide.” I sang along with them, now I know I have a decent voice but never have I had a crowd of people be so appreciative and respectful even in a bar setting, everyone from bartender to the old man deep into his whisky stopped and listened and applauded and gave sentiments of encouragement and appreciation when I had finished.

My mother and then travelled to Killarney, where we stayed overnight and found another venue to see another sessiun. This one was much more crowded and we searched for seats. The only available ones were with a man who looked approximately 137 years old, small and frail but with a sly twinkle in his eyes. I inquired if we might sit with him and offered to buy him a drink to show our appreciation. He happily chirped that he would have a warm whiskey; (whisky, hot water, with a lemon slice that is studded with cloves good for whatever ails you.) I went to get his drink as well as my own pint of Guinness, worked my way back to the table, both hands full of beverages. I stopped to hand the drink to my new merry little friend and he proceeds to grab my right breast, weighing it as if it were his own little pot of gold. He took in a breath, let out a whistle and told me that I had “quite a bit to work with there”. Normally I would have slapped a person for touching me in that manner, however since he was 137 years old I was concerned he would indeed shatter if I hit him and all in all… well one must pay the price for good seats.

Towards the end of our trip my mother and I had to make a decision, head back to Galway or spend the rest of our trip in Dublin. Galway it was. Upon our return I almost immediately ran into one of the ladies who I sang with at the sessiun at the Roisin. Kathleen gave me one of my greatest honors, she asked me to sit in at that evening’s sessiun at the world famous Crane Bar www.cranebar.com . I sat in, sang and held my own. I drank my pints that others purchased for me to show their appreciation for the “ginger singer from the States” and I kept up with no set lists, no breaks, no dressing rooms, no roadies. It was music at its purest; it was conversation not with dialogue exchanged back and forth but with notes and harmonies. I left these divine musicians sadly and staggered a bit back to my hotel singing all the way along the Sea Road, gazing West, looking towards Boston bittersweetly, not wanting to leave but knowing I couldn’t stay. On yet another side note, I can not find my way out of Worcester, I get lost every single solitary time I go there.

It was my 35th birthday that day and it was also my last day in Ireland. I had to catch a plane at a frightful hour and, it didn’t matter a bit. There is a picture of me that was taken at the end of the sessiun surrounded by Irish musicians that counted me worthy. It was hands down one of my proudest moments in whatever this career I have as a singer. A grin is splitting my face in two and I am sweating and truthfully a little buzzed but the joy in my expression is palpable to those who see the picture.

To all my musician friends who play Irish music this weekend, The Gobshites, Spitshiner, Kryngle Daly best wishes for the no doubt marathon gigs you will play over the next few days. I raise a pint to you.